


"Look Both Ways."

by impulse_baker



Series: 100 Ways to Say 'I Love You' [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Dean Winchester, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied Gabriel/Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy, M/M, Pining, drunk Dean is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15199202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulse_baker/pseuds/impulse_baker
Summary: Team Free Will plus Gabe and Eileen are celebrating a hunt gone well with a few drinks. Except a few drinks aren't good enough for Dean when he thinks about how much it sucks that he doesn't have what it takes to say anything to Cas about how he feels after years and years, when it obviously isn't that hard, if the threesome situation in front of him is anything to go by.Or the one where Dean gets super drunk and cute and flirts with Cas in his weird emotionally constipated way.





	"Look Both Ways."

As much as Dean hated to admit it, having Gabriel around was turning out to have its perks. Adding an archangel to the roster when they went on hunts was cutting down how much time they were spending per hunt, and Dean also noticed Sam was finishing jobs with less and less injuries. The dynamic between his brother and the short stack made him pause more than once, but he figured as long as Sam was safe and _whistling_ – which made Dean consider splashing him with holy water the first time – that he would look the other way. He couldn’t forget the past shit that Gabriel had put them through, but he couldn’t deny that he’d done a hell of a lot more to help them, too.

What was even weirder was how well the archangel and Eileen hit it off. She frequently visited them at the Bunker but sometimes he would be walking through the War Room and see the two of them on video call, smiling and signing fluidly to one another. He always thought she and Sam had a thing, but sometimes he had the nagging suspicion that Sam and _Gabe_ had a thing, and he could never wrap his head around it.

But that was none of his business.

Even if he was currently bearing witness to his brother and Eileen balance a sugar high, winged dick in their laps. Gabriel had his arm around Eileen’s neck and his legs crossed over Sam’s thighs and Dean wondered if anyone else felt as uncomfortable as he did. He was thankful they were in a liberal city like Portland, otherwise he wasn’t sure they’d be able to finish a drink before they got kicked out for the scene the three of them were creating.

The worst part? Not one of them seemed to realize how ridiculous they were being.

His only solace was that he had Cas next to him, looking equally perplexed with the display of whatever it was in front of them.

“Alright, Hefner, come on tone it down a bit.” Dean groused, gesturing at Gabriel with the neck of his bottle.

“Why? We’re all having a good time, Dean-o! Just have your drinks and celebrate a world with one less vengeful spirit.”

“Kind of hard to do with you thinking you’re a lap dog.”

The archangel only raised a brow and smirked. “You’re just jealous because I had the cajones to resolve _my_ sexual tension.”

Dean blanched. _Nope nope nope nope nope not thinking about that._

“Dean would you like to play pinball? I saw one in the corner when we walked in.” Cas stood up and motioned somewhere further in the bar.

He followed his savior to a vintage looking, space themed pinball machine, thankful to be away from the three overly chummy amigos. Cas managed to engage him in taking turns playing and seeing who could rack up a higher score, but his attention kept inevitably being drawn to the ease with which Sam and Gabriel and Eileen flirted with each other. He could tell they were comfortably buzzed, and even the archangel seemed to be under the influence of something.

 _It’s loooooovvee_ the annoying voice in his brain provided, but he mentally swatted that away.

Alcohol. They needed more alcohol.

“Let’s play a drinking game. You have to take a shot every time you sink your ball into the wormhole.”

His angel leveled him with a look that said _are you sure_ but Dean waved him off and ordered ten rounds of shots. He’d hate himself for this in the morning when he was miserable and hung over, but right now he just wanted to be as drunk as possible to forget about how easy it could be to express the same open affection towards his own angel, but how he was too much of a shithead to do anything.

Five shots into the game, Sam all but skipped over to let them know that he and Cas were on their own for the rest of the night and that they’d get their own additional room.

“Have a good night Sam. I’ll be sure to get Dean safely to his room.”

Dean was either too annoyed or too unstable, or both, to say anything, so he just nodded and turned his focus back to the game. The damned little metal ball kept getting stuck between a cluster of panels, bouncing rapidly between them and earning him plenty of points, but wasting his time and taking away his control.

_How relatable._

He was losing considerably, having downed all ten of his shots, and was reaching for one of Cas’ untouched shot glasses when his angel finally declared the night to be over.

“I’m sure you’re very tired, Dean. The past three days have been very busy, and your body requires rest, not more alcohol. Come.”

_Mmm that voice, he’s so alpha…so commanding._

“Yes, commander!” He hobbled off of his stool and stood at attention, mock saluting his companion. “Remember that, Cas? When you had an army? You had roll call and –”

“Yes, Dean, I remember. Come on, I don’t want to have to carry you in front of all these people.”

“But you could! I’d be like a sack of potatoes to you.” Maybe Dean _wanted_ Cas to carry him. Maybe he wanted to goad him into throwing him over his shoulder and telling him how _bad_ he was being and how when they got to their room he’d bend him over his knee and –

“I could, but I won’t because you wouldn’t want me to. Not sober, at least.”

He was sporting what Dean secretly dubbed his Dom Brow™ and he was so torn between wanting to see how far he could annoy his patient angel and wanting to be nice to him and do as he said. Why were the Winchesters always faced with earth shattering decisions?

Instead, he was struck with the brilliant idea of lazing an arm over Cas’ shoulder and leaning in as close as he could so that half of his weight was being supported by his angel. He grabbed his hand and looped it around his own waist and smiled wide, pleased with his own intelligence. “This is how you walk a drunk dude home.”

“Yes, you’re right, Dean. This is the proper inebriated escort etiquette.”

The world hummed with car horns and crickets and the whirring of lamp posts, and his best friend next to him was glowing under the passing golden lights.

“Can I see your halo?”

“I would much prefer not to burn your eyes out.”

“Looks like you’ve got a halo.”

“Popular depictions of halos are actually quite inaccurate. Though I suppose with the limitations of human senses, it could be perceived as a ring of light to those able to see an angel’s true form.”

“How come we have a profound bond but I can’t see your true form? Or hear your voice without going deaf? Do we have to bond more…profoundly?” His brain seemed unable to supply him with better words, but it was feeding him plenty of images of what that bonding could include.

“I’m not sure, but it may have something to do with not being a devout believer in God.”

“I’m a believer in _you_ though.”

The smile Cas gave him made his chest feel funny. Like he had a million ducks flapping around and nudging their bills against his insides. He’d remember to tell Cas he believed in him more often. He wanted to see him smile more.

“Hey Cas.”

“Yes Dean?”

Whatever he was about to say died on his tongue as they approached the street and he lunged himself in front of Cas, knocking him back a few steps.

“Look both ways!”

His angel had that confused kitten look on his face that made Dean want to squeeze his cheeks and do that nose boop thing that Kevin hated. He looked like a blue-eyed teddy bear that he wanted to just keep in his pocket and protect from the world.

“I hardly think I’d fit in any of your pockets.”

Now Dean was the one confused. There was too much going on in his brain and if he spent too much energy trying to sort all the ducks and kittens and sexy angels in his head, he wouldn’t have any energy to walk to their room, so he plopped himself down in the grass, in front of the street, exactly where they were.

“Dean I believe you are thinking aloud.”

That explained one mystery. Cas was so smart. He was so good at solving problems.

“Thank you, Dean. But maybe you could tell me why you stopped?”

Right. He was thinking out loud. “You need to look both ways before you cross a street! I can’t let anything happen to you! I can’t lose you! Life fucking sucks ass without you. I’d…I’d jump in front of a car for you, Cas. I would. I’d fucking take a crowbar to any stupid car that tried to run you over.”

“Thank you very much, Dean. But I would do much more damage to the car if it were to collide with me, than it would do to me. And I don’t plan on leaving you again anyway.”

Somehow, he ended up on Cas’ back with his legs wrapped around his waist and his arms in a choke hold around his neck. “Like a koala.”

“Yes, you do resemble a koala.”

“I won’t give you chlamydia, though. Not that I have it. Not that you’d have sex with me anyway. Not that you get it by having sex with a koala. That’s fucked up. Because otherwise the One Directions boys got some ‘splaining to do.”

“Why do you assume I wouldn’t have sex with you?”

He wondered how he was supposed to explain that Cas was way out of his league and he was so hot and too good and deserved so much better than a drop out screw up and Sam and Eileen and Gabriel could do the dirty because they were good and brave and could have good things they wanted like relationships but he fucked all his relationships up and everyone Dean loved got hurt and he wanted to protect him and Cas deserved roses and caviar and ancient wine. He wondered how to explain all of that without sounding totally lame. He decided not to say anything at all.

He could protect his and Cas’ feelings by shutting up.

He didn’t say anything the rest of the short walk to the motel. He didn’t say anything while Cas sat him upright in bed and got him to drink a glass of water. He stay quiet while his angel gently took his boots and socks off, and freed him of his clothes down to his boxers. He marveled silently at the care his best friend took in getting him in a worn out Pink Floyd shirt to sleep in.

He couldn’t stay silent when Cas started putting distance between them though. He was tired of not being close to him.

“Tell me a bedtime story.”

His angel sat on the edge of the bed with one of his legs folded underneath him. “What would you like to hear a story about?”

“Tell me the one about that cave lady that trained a tiger to impress her cave lady friend.”

“She was one of the first homo sapiens to have a mutualistic symbiotic relationship with a predator of that size. Although the saber cat was much smaller than its ancestors that are most well-known, it was still highly impressive. She was successful in wooing her friend and was sought after by many others.”

“Well duh, who wouldn’t want to be with such a bad ass?”

“Some of the angels weren’t impressed, since she didn’t produce any offspring, they considered her unsuccessful as an organism. It made me question why humans were so limited in their abilities to procreate, since there was obviously more that went into their decisions over who to have intercourse with besides for rearing children.”

“Do you want kids?” He wasn’t sure where the question came from, but verbal diarrhea seemed to be the theme for the night.

“I already have Jack and Claire.” His answer seemed so simple, but Dean was struck with the idea of him being round with Cas’ half angel baby. No need to dive deeper into that part of his psyche…

“Would you still like me to tell the story?” Cas voice was already lulling him to sleep but he wanted to stay awake and enjoy the night alone, just a little while longer.

“Yeah, but not like that.” He lifted the covers and patted the space beside him. “I gotta have you close where I know you’ll be safe so you don’t go wandering off getting dead again. And lose the coat and shit. You’re already a furnace, I don’t want to drown in my sweat.” He mentally applauded his flawless lie. Cas was always the perfect body temperature. He just wanted to be closer to him.

 

He woke up only once in the middle of the night when he felt something tickling the inside of his nose. He had his arms full of a slowly breathing angel, and a face full of thick black hair.

This is exactly where he wanted him. Where he could keep him safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is kind of incoherent but I wanted it to really sound like the inside of a drunk idiot's head who happens to be crazy in love. 
> 
> We're finally a quarter of the way there! I hope you enjoy reading. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Previous work: "Just Because."  
> Next work: "I'm Sorry. I Didn't Mean To."


End file.
